


Prisoners of our own device

by Malice



Category: SPN, Supernatural
Genre: Purgatory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-29
Updated: 2012-06-29
Packaged: 2017-11-08 20:20:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/447136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malice/pseuds/Malice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Purgatory has a surprise in store.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prisoners of our own device

Even in his younger years he had a respect for the natural order of things and this still carried on. The weak were devoured by the strong. Only the most cunning and powerful were fit to survive and prosper on the bones of the lesser. In the vast universe, these rules applied firmly in Purgatory and he was perfectly content with the overall circumstances.

At first, after being mowed down by a moose on steroids he was actually surprised to find himself in the realm. He had heard stories of Purgatory but he had never thought to find himself locked within it with the rest of demons and creatures of the world. After all only the foolish managed to arrive here. He thought he had been of a higher class then that but failure occasionally happened to even the greatest souls.

Purgatory was much like Hell and he had to admit he liked it here just fine. There was plenty of entertainment to go around. The screams here were ever so familiar, but the pitch was different. The notes of terror and pain seemed to run higher. The level of despair was more dramatic. He quickly learned how to read the screams to differentiate the species and relative span of time a soul had lived here.

There were the new bloods; their cries were higher, desperate, the sour note of hope lingered at the end of their calls. Older souls only cried out in pain or in their frustration, otherwise they were silent. The more reserved they became the more dangerous they could become. He had been quick to learn that. After being torn to shreds a couple times, new bloods got the hint. 

There was no hierarchy here, no order, no will do devise some sort of system. Not here, there was only blood and pain and those lingering moments just before death set in. Death never really came here though…He had seen and done many things, but Purgatory was, strange. He had watched the process once, being as he could not watch himself. At least he could see the results from those he ‘murdered’.

The usual process by usual means occurred, depending on the species he was hacking at. Eventually things would slow down and actually stop. The form would appear ‘dead’ in a sense, but Purgatory was much like Hell. She was alive, and she didn’t let somebody stay dead very long. She was just a cruel a mistress as her sister, and the similarities both sickened and amused him.

Time was different here and he wasn’t quite sure how he could tell. There was nothing to base off the assumption, nothing to compare it to. There were only the cycles; searching, fighting, winning, or dying. Searching for what though? For some it was a safe place to hide, others searching for souls who were capable of more intelligent thought – trying to constantly devise a way of escape, and there were others like Alastair who found themselves constantly on the hunt.

Though in the end being the victor didn’t matter for too long. It was only a substantial win if something was trying to eat you, and being digested did put a damper on things. He found himself comparing this place to the digestive system. Creatures here were in a constant state of being torn apart, broken down, and spread in different areas. He wasn’t sure if this place was slowly digesting them all or not. He had never seen anybody fully ‘die’ here anyway, but he was certain he still had much to learn.

How long had it been here, months, decades?

Frankly, for him it was just another day. There were a few new arrivals here and there. New bloods often found themselves in trouble, and quickly, but this was different. If there was one name, one word that caused even the most beastly of creatures to raise their heads and grin…It was “Winchester.” At first he thought he was hearing things. Surely a Winchester would find themselves back in Heaven or Hell, not Purgatory. 

This was music to his ears. To have Sam or Dean as a member here was going to be quite a delight. He could feel the ground shudder with the gossip. Alastair smiled as he rolled up sleeves, that were in a constant state of covered in some form of blood. Taking a moment to pause he scratched his beard and started to roam the vast wilds of this monster filled realm. 

There was going to be the greatest of lines to access a Winchester. How many hundreds upon thousands of creatures had those two dunderheads put here? And the beasts…They were always ready for a taste of fresh meat. If only alliances could be formed here, he could have met one of the boys with an army. Sadly the Misses not only healed, but scattered souls throughout the realm. What was the term he had heard one of the creatures use?  
“Respawn point.”

Alastair had no idea what the vampire had been talking about at the time. The whole ‘last words’ thing had become tiresome for him thousands of years ago in Hell. He hadn’t really paid much attention before delivering a ‘killing’ blow and watching Miss Purgatory swallow the body into the ground. He was going to have to find that vampire sometime and ask him what it meant. That could wait; he had a guest to entertain.

Already he could tell that the rumor was true. The wind carried the name on the breeze and he headed towards the smell of confusion and fear. The beasts, as always, had beaten him to the punch. The creatures were more in tuned. He spotted his hound along with them. Yes, his. He had managed to ‘adopt’ one over time. The poor brute had been cut down in the last battle, and a smile came to the demon’s lips as he came closer to the creature.

The demon’s head tilted as he heard the swooping sound of angel’s wings. An angel had arrived here as well? A couple dozen or so of them had come here a little a while ago. He had made sure to give them a warm welcome to this society. Maybe this angel was smart and decided to stay on the move. Good for it, but it was the confused human that he spotted next – running for his bowlegged life.

It was a race, and the demon and his hound found themselves cutting down creature upon creature to get closer to Dean. As the human saw what was happening he moved to defend himself, but he had yet to create a weapon from what Purgatory had to offer. Alastair almost felt pity for him. In an instant he was upon the Winchester, hands wrapping around his neck. Alastair watched with hungry eyes as Dean’s expression twisted from confusion, to fear, and then back to rage.

“We have a celebrity, what a nice surprise.”  
“Alastair you son of - ” he choked out.  
“Welcome to Purgatory,” as he started to choke the boy with a sneer, “It’s such a lovely place.”


End file.
